First World Problems

Hope is a strange thing. We Americans (and busybodies of all nations and ethnicities) constantly sweat the small stuff. We sweat it so much that we even make fun of our superficial problems with hashtags like #firstworldproblems and #fml.  I could pretend like I'm above all these things but let's be real; I get horribly upset if the person I like rejects me. I get all whiny when I can't go out with my friends because I spent my money on take-out because I was too lazy to cook. I am typically distressed over room mates, employers and most authority figures (because sometimes it feels like everyone has authority over my life, except me).  I freak out if every inch of my body isn't covered in lotion within five minutes of exiting the shower. And it has to be the good stuff, too. Don't give me that dollar store crap. I need that Eucerin or Jergens The stuff that can lubricate cars for years. These are my "problems".

The funny thing about First World Problems is that we make them ourselves.

I mean whose fault is it that you don't have any money to pay that bill after partying? Whose fault is it that your friend or significant other got pissed at you because you got trashed and said something stupid? Whose fault is it that you're in jail because you didn't feel like paying for that new iPhone 4684SQ 2.0 (no that's not a thing)? It's yours. And while we scamper about like bunnies lamenting over our insignificant problems there are people with very real life or death problems. And while we feel hopeless because we didn't get our dream job or school or we have shitty luck with finding a mate or no one likes us, those who are in desperate situations are completely capable of finding real hope in the future.

When I witness situations like these, it calls me to re-evaluate my life. My priorities. My "problems". Yes, sometimes it is difficult to compare each person's problems, much like it is to compare one's physical pain to another; but we have to stop and ask ourselves: What problems can I fix with a little more effort and a little less whining? Just as important: What problems can't be fixed? What is outside of my control? Would all the fuss and hoo-haw and effort even change the outcome? If not, perhaps it would serve me better to take a deep breath, thank God I am alive (because you only get one life) roll up my sleeves and then rebuild.


-O.T.

Dimes Over Death

Two Novembers ago I had a panic attack. As I was getting my hair retwisted in Newark, the loctician asked me how my life was going. While reviewing my year, my chest was overcome with excruciating pain, making it extremely difficult to breath. A sharp pain shot down my back and my stomach felt as though it was being ripped open from the inside. As I felt like I was going to pass out, my loctician asked me if I was okay. After doubling over in pain, I thought about my next move.

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?" he asked.

I declined. After calling my parents, I took a two bus, hour and a half ride to the clinic in West Orange. By the time I got there, my chest still hurt but I was feeling much better. I got a check-up and an EKG. Everything seemed pretty normal. I was sent off with a prescription -which I never redeemed- as well as a warning not to stress so much and lay off the Cuban Pete's (employment at the time).

At 22 years old, I learned the idiotic, bitter reality that sometimes you have to make a decision between your health and your wallet. In theory, your health should be more important but when you think about it, a broke college student with no insurance going to the hospital can only end badly. I know I'm not alone in this convoluted decision-making process. According to a 2003 Center on Budget and Policy Priorities study, 45 million people do not have health insurance. Most college students and grads -to which I am acquainted- do not have insurance.

Considering how many doctors over-prescribe and the current generations are in what I consider the Addiction Era, I can't tell if less people going to the doctor will be for the better or worse. Maybe as a result more people will look into holistic medicine and religion? Just a thought.

I highly anticipate the day I receive insurance. Until then I will fear hospitals. The institution, known as the modern hospital, used to be a source of relief for those in serious need of help. When it was first built, I could imagine it as a beacon of hope for those who wished to no longer rely on primitive healing methods. Now, like the police, it has become an object of fear and corruption. Rather than a vast storage of knowledge and medicine, I now see it as numbers, $40 aspirins, horrible credit and ruined lives.

-O.T.

Perspective

I threw on my blue sweatpants, white polyester-lined snow boots, a sweatshirt, my gloves, a winter coat and stepped outside. Large chunks of snow swirled around me as I looked on to completely covered street. The wind was blowing but the atmosphere was eerily silent. I started across the street, toward the park. SUVs crept by, breaking the strange silence haunting my mind. It makes me think back to that old question. "If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?" How selfish can we be to think that the world does not exist and continue on while we aren't around. Berkeley, there's always someone/ thing to perceive.

I digress...

I walked down the street as the fury of the snow grew stronger around me. Coming closer to my goal I veered off the sidewalk towards the creek, glistening beneath the gray blur. I pulled a camera out of my pocket and snapped a few pictures until my camera died. I walked back across the street, stopped to observe the couple holding hands in the snow and the children making a snowman in the driveway. Soon after, I walked upstairs, threw off my clothes started to grill some chicken for tacos and sat at my computer.

It's interesting how I'm poor, but not. I can go outside when I want to and admire nature and come back inside and admire it from the safety of my own room. Other people hate it because they have to live out there. What are the standards of poverty? What should I compare it to? Is it about comparing? If I compare it to Montclair, I'm poor as heck. Compared to Essex County, still kinda poor. Compared to the US. Not so much, but you have to take into affect income vs. cost of living. Compared to the world, I'm nowhere near poor. At least, that's what I'm assuming. The thing is, if you are constantly comparing, isn't there always someone poorer? Sure your annual income is two dollars and you have to feed yourself and two kids but what about the woman who has to feed herself, her husband and five kids on one dollar, annually.

Is it right to compare yourself to people? It's like the people who I've met after they've immigrated to the U.S. They are busboys or cleaning people and I ask them what it was like back in their own country. They then shock me by telling me they owned two bars or had their own business doing what they love and were making a decent amount of money relative to their country. Some people were better off in their own country than I've ever been in my life. If that's the case, why come here? Is there a difference between "well-off" and poor? Maybe it doesn't matter if you are poor if you are well-off. Maybe that's what I am.

I don't even want to imagine the gap between the richest person and the poorest. It's disgusting and quite frankly, strange. I can barely imagine how people can afford a three bedroom apartment and a car, even less, a mansion for all of your favorite countries. I guess, once again, it all boils down to appreciating what you have, not wasting it and sharing what you can.

Stalemate.

****
Later, my friend sent me this site. It tells you your international income rank. I am the 692,914,400 richest person in the world. Check it out:

http://www.globalrichlist.com/

Are Poor People Good for the Economy?

Warning: This next post may sound a tad bit crazy, especially to you economists.

As I was walking through the streets of Newark after class, I was thinking about the three Rainbow clothing stores within a two block radius near Broad and Market. I was also thinking about the large number of other clothes stores and chicken shacks. These chicken shacks and stores have been open for a very long time. I live in Montclair where a business is blessed to hit the four month line. I hate to say it but Montclair is becoming a ghost town. It's becoming more and more evident how desperate the town is by the sudden fast food -organic burgers or no- and clothing franchises springing up. As I was thinking about all of this I couldn't help but wonder: Do the poor play a vital role in the stability of the economy?

Think about it. If I were a multi-millionaire and I spent a bunch of money on things (ridiculous things at that) my paycheck could single-handedly be responsible for the success of a few stores. I, as a rich person or a well off person contribute a good amount of money to the economy. But wait! I lost my job and I'm broke. I stopped shopping and spending an excessive amount of money on things. As a result, the local boutique shut down because it lost its best customer and couldn't make the rent. I can't hire the landscapers. I can't pay a bunch of money in taxes. I can't pay a huge mortgage. I can't send my kid to private school anymore and I can't pay off my loan. The loss of my micro-economy just made a void in the regular economy.

Now look at a poor or lower class person. There's only me. I'm typically broke so I tend to have very stable spending habits, for the most part. Gotta pay my bills, gotta eat, gotta get the essentials and if I have some extra monies I'ma head to Persuation or Sin City and get me some cute jeans. Oh crap, the economy is going to hell! Well as long as I still have my job, not much is going to change, I'm still broke. Even I were to lose my job there wouldn't be much of a dent.

I think that the lower class is very essential to the stability of the economy. But only if there are poor people in numbers. Look at Newark's businesses, for example, there are about 30,060 people in Newark (according to the Census taken in 2006). It is safe to say not many are upper class but they somehow have enough money to keep all the chicken shacks, news stands, dollar stores, clothes stores and street vendors open for years. If one person loses their job then it's no biggie to the stores because they still have another 29,000 people to buy that pair of pants for $10. If one rich person loses his or her job, it's the equivalent of 10+ poor people losing their jobs, causing businesses to suffer a huge loss. As I said before this theory only works in numbers. If 30,000 were rich and living in the same town then it wouldn't matter much. Unfortunately, it's a rare thing.

So there. That's my theory.

I also have to say that I don't understand why businesses have lost their minds and made things more expensive and are surprised when they can't keep their heads above water. The businesses of Newark got it right when they made "recession specials". Even the Subway off of Raymond Blvd. and Broad jumped on the band wagon. As a recession special, Subway has two dollar ham sandwiches with unlimited toppings. Who needs five dollar foot longs? Only that Subway is doing it. You know why? Because they know that people need to eat and two dollars is a damn good price for a 6" sub. So now everybody and their momma is going to Subway. Subway is going to pay their rent and everybody is going to be happy. All because of two dollar ham sandwiches. Subway won't lose money because the neigboring business people still get their five dollar foot longs and "make it a meals". Personally, I'm not a huge fan of Subway but now I go there just because of the two dollar deal. As I said, I think businesses should take a lesson from how Newark's businesses operate and get with the program.

Man's Best Friend

I pretty much live at the library. I see a lot of the same people everyday and I wonder, sometimes, if they see me. As of late, considering the number of people pointing me out (I'm known to store owners as the girl with the bike), probably.

Lately I've been seeing this one women. She never actually comes in the library. She hangs around it. Everyday she wears a jacket, red hat, blue sweat pants cut at the bottom and white sneakers. Every singe time, she ties her black and white dog to the bike rack and he (or she) waits patiently as its master searches through the trash cans. After observing this for a few days I thought about the homeless person I saw with his dog in Time Square. What I would like to know is: are homeless people better off with pets?

For some people the easy answer would be yes. They serve as companions, ease loneliness and perhaps give you something to live for. Depending on the kind of dog, they might be good at hunting squirrels, rabbits and other animals. Not to mention I'm sure they'd probably make great personal heaters.

On the other hand, you'd have to share your food with them so you might go hungry longer. Plus, I'm sure most homeless shelters don't take in animals so you'd have to make the difficult decision to leave your friend out in the freezing cold alone or staying out in the cold, yourself. To some people that decision might not be hard but most pet owners know you develop some type of a bond with your animal that is hard to break. Imagine if not only you have a pet but it's the only thing you have. The only thing that's there for you when the world kicks your butt. I'm 99 percent sure that bond is ridiculously huge. Now think back to that decision at the homeless shelter. Would you abandon them?

It's hard to determine if you are better off or not. Personally, I would want a dog if I had a choice and I was homeless. What about you?

-O.T,

Recycling Day

It was a very fun moment when I realized I was poor. It was not after I filed for unemployment. It was not after realizing my job is probably going to make me about $300/ month, at most. It was not after I barely had four dollars to get to class causing me to borrow money. It wasn’t even after a complete stranger randomly (I was working on my laptop, minding my own business) offered me half of her roast beef sandwich and I actually accepted it. It happened one faithful day after work...
It was a beautiful, cloudless Sunday evening. I was walking home with a full belly as I was thanking God that my job not only feeds me but feeds me healthy things (a certain unnamed Egyptian man who refers to me as his “African sister” peer pressures me to eat and lives through me during Ramadan). I took off my shoes because, as of late, my feet have been in a lot of pain. As I felt the cool, relieving sidewalk through my wool fishnet stockings, I thought of all the things I needed to do the next morning: go to class, collect my tips, wash my clothes, go to the dollar store, get some hangers and ramen.
As I mentally prepared for the next day, I noticed recyclables neatly packed in piles in front of an apartment building. I’ve passed this place a few times but never gave it a second thought. That night seemed to be a different story. That night, a shiny piece of metal grabbed my eye. A perfectly good magazine rack was JUST LYING on top of the garbage. I thought to myself, “who would throw away such a wonderful furnishing?” I was tempted to grab it but these past few weeks have taught me to focus on the basics, not to mention my pride was at the forefront of my mind. I passed such a tempting offer.
Next, I passed a certain clothing store and sitting on top of the garbage were hangers. For some reason, I had been procrastinating when it came to buying more hangers. In an act of serendipity, an abundance of perfectly good, white wire hangers were sitting in front of me, calling my name. Of course, my pride reared its ugly head:
“Seriously, are you going to take hangers out of the garbage?”
During the day, my pride would have won. The last thing I wanted was this town to see an African-American girl digging in the garbage. At midnight, I didn't mind so much. I grabbed the hangers and made my way home. On the way I spotted a perfectly good dish rack. I was tempted, yet again, but I passed up such a tempting offer. As I walked home smiling with my heels in one hand and hangers in the other, I came to a sudden halt as it all smacked me in the head: I make next to nothing, I’m on unemployment and recycling day has officially become my favorite day of the week. I’m flipping poor.
As I reflected on the situation, all I could do was smile at I thought: Who cares? I have free hangers.

-O.T.